Twins?

Okay, let's just get the cat out of the bag. Incidentally, why did we have the cat in the bag? Were we planning on killing it or something? Cats tend to like boxes, but I'm not sure they are as fond of bags. Couldn't the cat just have clawed it's way out of the bag. Maybe we should give it some space when we let it out.

The point is that one of the hardest thing about having a pregnant wife is that you cannot engage in what the French call making love. Incidentally, do not do a search on the online slang dictionary for other terms to describe what we're going to call making love because it goes on for pages. And you suddenly start feeling really old and out of touch with the language, and simultaneously really happy to be old and out of touch with the language. Blaze? Really? That's a fire my friend.

Look, I know it's true what all the books say. That you're supposed to fawn on her, and remind her that she is still a wonderful and attractive woman in those stretchy pants, and that you've always wished, since you love her so much that there was bit more of her and that you consider it a real blessing. And also that you really like those big shirts she wears and her propensity for falling asleep at nine P.M. Don't get me wrong, all that stuff is true.

I think it's important to remember to use the word glowing in conjunction with their person about five times a day and to rub their belly and say how it reminds you of a bowling ball, and that you've always wanted to date a woman who was a good bowler.

But look, none of those reasons really matter. It's more of a scientific problem but really a problem of finances.

The reason we're abstaining is that neither one of want twins. I know that people always say that you learn to love them both and you make it work, but I just don't know if we have the floor space, and we don't have a bunk bed. So we're abstaining for now, because S doesn't really want twins either. It's science. Look it up. Just take a cold shower buddy, you've already got one on the way.